Yuki: Hello!

Anika: Hope you missed this story!

Yuki: This chapter is dedicated to RiYuYami who (somehow) got me interested in JtHM and thusly inspired this story!

Anika: Introducing... Atemu's DIE-ARY!

Cast:

Johnny C. - Atemu

Die-ary - itself

Edgar Vargas - as himself (explained in Naraku no Chibi Neko)

Warning: Some ideology involved here, religion and what-not...

Atemu stood at his bedroom window, thinking about his recent activities. He looked outside, arms against the windowsill.

Around the room and thrown against the walls were dolls, bloody and ripped open. Their cotton intestines had been pulled out and were replaced with a mixture of what appeared to be rodent remains. The dead animals were also cut into pieces, like a blender had decided to do some work in pest control.

Dear Die-ary,

Today, I stuffed some dolls full of dead rats I put in the blender.

I'm wondering if, maybe, there really is something wrong with me.

The dolls still smiled, unaware of what Atemu had done to them.

...

...

...

Or, perhaps, they were simply blissfully content, on the fact that they were never alive... never in pain...

Chapter 6: Goblins

...

"Why are people so... unpleasant?" Atemu was sitting in his basement, sitting on the floor, back against the wall. He was in his musing position, knees bent, hand curled near his chin.

"I don't know." Trapped in an elaborate torture device, strapped to the wall behind him, was a man with red eyes, glasses, and tri-colored hair, held back in a ponytail. Atemu sat on the wall opposite of him, looking at the man. The torture device that he was contained within had many types of blades ready to rip him apart... It was beautiful and appaling all at once.

Atemu stood, walking slowly closer to the man.

"Honestly, it's so difficult to truly care about so many things without, first, knowing the answers to some of the most fundamental, mind ravaging questions! How can one possibly respect the existence of someting, people in this case, when that something seems to DEFY respect? They do such trivial things, and find amusement, even up to so-called "maturity", in the incessant treatment of their own kind."

His mind was questioning everything today. Maybe Atemu could find some answers today as well

"That's a very general statement." The victim felt somewhat compelled to clarify this problem within the man's mind, if but only a little. "Not all people are the way you describe them to be."

It was pretty interesting, this basement, Atemu's victim mused. There were paintings on either wall to his sides, paintings of an eye. The eyes seemed to long for answers. What answers could they be provided if the eyes had no mouth to speak them with?

Atemu smiled to himself. "Hmm... Yes, but keep in mind; It's possible that I'm quite horrendously insane."

He began to walk closer to the man. "That's the fuck of it; You know, the old thing about the crazy person who never knows they're crazy. It could just be an imperceptible shifting of accepted realities. It's all really interesting."

The victim was calm. "Yes... Yes it is. But I don't suppose that your, um, current reality would allow you to let me go, would it?"

The lunatic was close. Maybe, if the victim was lucky...

"No. I don't think so."

"I see." So much for that plan. "Well, could you, at least, loosen these restraints some? This hurts quite a bit. Very painful."

Atemu held in hands in fist, in front of his chin, as if yearning for understanding in this new, fucked up reality. "Think of the sensation as reassurance that you are not dead yet. What you are feeling is life in you! I would hate to lessen that for you. I will take you from one extreme to the other. I would never deprive you of this; your final awareness."

Maybe Atemu wasn't as crazy as he had thought; Perhaps...

The victim's eyebrow rose. "That's very nice of you." Looking down, thinking of something to at least prolong his life by a few moments, he asked:

"Could you tell me what it was, exactly, that I did to you? What I said? I mean, up until I awoke here, I've never met you. It's one of those nagging questions a person gets before being torn apart by, um, whatever this thing is."

Well, Atemu didn't expect that. His finger went to his chin, in a pondering stance. "Mmm... what did you do? You know, I can't really say. Nothing, I guess." Was his killing getting that pointless... without a real purpose...

"But you are a person," Atemu reasoned to his victim, "and I can't say I'm fond of that. My days are less that enjoyable because of people. You will be the effigy I burn, infused with all the traits that make them the detestable little goblins they are. You won't really burn, though; ripped to strips is more accurate."

This brought a thought to the soon-to-be-ripped-to-strips man.

"But you're a person. Why don't you kill yourself?"

Atemu mentally sighed. "Trust me, I know what self-loathing is, but to kill myself? That would put a damper on my search for answers. Not at all productive. Beside, I've become increasingly doubtful as to whether or not I can die at all. But let's not get into that."

"Okayyy." Strange conversation, but at least the victim was still alive. He looked down at his captor.

"What if I'm not like all those goblin people? You just randomly picked me out, when you could've taken someone more deserving. You could've picked one of those street performers who impersonate robots and make that irritating wheezy whistle noise."

Atemu looked up at the man, regret in his eyes. The man was right. "I thought of that, but I wasn't in the mood to go look for one; I just wanted to get back home."

Atemu's voice was full of regret, yet not whiny like some goblins' voices are. His left hand was over his curled right hand, apologetic. His thin frame and apologetic appearance made him look so small, so vulnerable.

"I probably could have done better because you do seem like a nice person. I'm sorry." Atemu's mouth settled into a pout and the nice man smiled.

"Thank you, that's very kind. By the way, my name's Edgar. Edgar Vargas."

Atemu smiled and bowed enough for his upper back to curve. "Pleased to meet you, Edgar, I am Johnny C., but, seeing as how we are sharing this intimate moment and all, you can me 'Nny.'"

Now, dear readers, if you have never read JtHM, you shall now learn how to say "Nny".

"Is that with a "K", like in 'knee cap'?" Edgar asked, curious.

"No," Atemu said, bending his arms to stretch with his hands on the back of his neck, "but it's pronounced the same."

Yes, now you know how to say Johnny's nickname. Ooh, here comes a dramatic plot twist.

"Ok, well then! Does this mean I can go now? Because, and I mean NO offense by this, I would like to go."

Atemu turned and walked away from the man, but only a short distance from where he had started out. He stratched his leg with the heel of his boot. He seemed... shameful, regretful, of letting someone down.

"Oh... Oh, no, I'm still going to kill you. Though you are my bestest, bestest friend in the room, currently, dire circumstances require me to end your life. I haven't the time to find anyone else, and I really need more blood."

Edgar now noticed a drain below him, some dried red substance along the edge of it. "Blood? You need my blood?"

Atemu walked up to the drain below his friend, looking solemnly upon it. He knelt down, his left foot and right knee keeping him balanced. He laid his hand on the drain, feeling the cool metal under his fingertips. "Not yours specifically, but, yes, I do need some blood, not for myself, no; I'm not particularly fond of any body fluid..."

He looked up to meet Edgar's eyes. "There is a wall in a room on one of the upper levels. You're underground right now; I found these lower rooms when I came here, as wll as more devices like the one you're in. But anyhow, if I don't keep 'painting' the wall, it goes soft, and something from the other side begins to push through. My curiosity is not so much that I would find out what that 'thing' is. So, you see, I CAN'T wait any longer."

"I ask you, once again, to please reconsider this. You can let me go and I-" Edgar was cut off as Atemu gripped his head.

"NO! NO! NO! STOP IT!! JUST SHUT UP!! I HAVE NO CHOICE! SAVE YOUR NOISE FOR LATER!!" Why... why... His head hurt; Atemu felt like crying apathetically. The head-voices just wouldn't shut the fuck up...

Edgar hung his head. "I see."

"You know," Atemu said, taking one step closer to Edgar, having been standing in the middle of the floor, gripping his head. "You're not exactly reacting the way I'd expect a person in your situation to react! Death usually has a much more profound impact on a person. Where is your fear!"

"I would rather not die," Edgar explained to the man he now noticed was somewhat of a doppelganger to him if he had seen the resemblance between them. "But I don't seem to have much say in the matter. But, I'm also not like you; I'm not clouded. I have no family, no friends, really; Nothing. But I do have faith; You know, God Ra and all that. A heavenly afterlife for me and a hellish underworld for you. So fuck fear."

Edgar raised his head to look at the ceiling. "I have nothing to fear."

Atemu looked at him, amazed. His expression became full of rage... jealously... envy. The maniac threw his arms down. "I envy your conviction.

A 'klik' was heard and Edgar saw red.

Glasses were shattered and blood flowed in a beautiful explosion of color, red overpowering the nonexisting colors that were in the room. Atemu stared, not unfazed by Edgar's death, but not effected all the same.

His head hung down, to gaze at the large pool of blood that was beginning to go down the drain. Atemu turned around to walk upstairs.

Atemu had come to a revelation.

"Well, that did nothing for me."

END

Yuki: I absolutely love Edgar from JtHM.

Anika: Go Johnny! Yay! :D

Atemu: Well... that's interestingly strange.

Yami: Please review... Squee!